


You Clearly Have Something To Say

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Coming In Pants, Dirty Talk, Kissing, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Season 2, Simultaneous Orgasm, Teasing, warship makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 16:30:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17832119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: Written for the tumblr prompt: “Bet I can make you come without ever touching your cock.”Set at the beginning of Season 2 while Flint and Silver are still trying to rejoin the Walrus crew.





	You Clearly Have Something To Say

Silver leans back, watching Flint across the cabin. Flint can feel his gaze no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries to focus. He’s been trying to focus for the better half of an hour now with still no luck. For whatever reason Dufresne has decided it’s easier to keep them in the captain’s cabin for now. Flint will take it. His shoulder still aches from the exertion of swimming out to fight and take the ship, and from being fucking shot for that matter.

“Something you wish to say?” he says at last without looking up. He knows very well Silver is looking at him, he doesn’t have to see it.

“Mmhm.” Silver says at last.

He doesn’t say anything further though and Flint attempts to keep his eyes on the chart before him. A few minutes pass, during which Silver speaks not at all but manages to fill the room with unbearable weight all the same.

_Damn him._

“You clearly have something to say.” Flint manages to keep his own gaze on the chart upon the desk. The focus of Silver’s gaze yet weighs upon him but he refuses to give in to it until he has to.

Silver drums his fingers aimlessly upon the windowsill of the window seat. The evening breeze wafts through his hair, tangling it this way and that.

The silence swells in the cabin until it’s Flint can think about. The heady focus of Silver’s stare, the expanse of his focus is already making Flint want to escape. The heat of it all brings sweat rolling down his back, causing his shirt to stick to his skin.

“What?” Flint places his hands flat on the desk and stares at him. “What the fuck is it?”

Silver doesn’t blink. “I bet I could make you come without even touching your cock.”

Flint blinks. The words are so unexpected. Silver’s just watching him. That’s what he’s been waiting to say? That of all things?

“What?” Flint repeats. Perhaps he’s misheard. Perhaps the sea is finally getting to him.

“You heard me.” Silver says, sitting back, resting his hands on his spread thighs. Flint’s very aware of the rocking of the ship underneath them, the breeze flickering the lantern light, the half visible curve of Silver’s cock in his breeches.

“Why are you…” He sits back as well, trying to maintain some sort of balance.

“We have the night before us. We have to get through it somehow.” Silver shrugs. “You still seem to doubt my offer of assistance in managing this crew, or your need of that assistance.”

“And you think offering to…” Flint can’t even say the words, though thinking them brings up a volley of images _Silver smiling at him, Silver crouching between his thighs, his hands on Flint’s knees, Silver looking up at him over his groin_. “will assure me of this venture?”

Flint sneers the last of the words, certain that Silver will back down from this. He’s not a fool, though Flint occasionally has doubts on that score.

Silver just smiles which does nothing to dispel the images in Flint’s head and something very direct to Flint’s groin.

He considers. “If you fail this…” He says, still not entirely sure what Silver’s planning on doing exactly if he doesn’t suck his cock. “What then?”

Silver shrugs. “Then if you’ve truly decided you no longer need or want my assistance, we can part ways.”

It would certainly makes things easier if the crew didn’t consider them bound. They might be persuaded to see reason on one of them, but not both. And still, Flint finds himself reluctant to cut ties with Silver just yet.

It doesn’t stop him from wanting to see what Silver will come up with though.

“All right.” He says, leaning further back in his chair.

Silver rises to his feet. “And what do I get if I succeed?”

“If?” Flint repeats. “You don’t sound very sure of yourself now.”

Silver shrugs again, slowly crossing the cabin to him. “Well?”

“What do you want?” Flint says. He’s fairly certain that question is already being half answered by what he’s allowing Silver to do here.

Silver comes to a halt right outside the span of Flint’s half-stretched leg. He leans on the corner of the desk, apparently considering the matter for the first time.

“A place at the table. A voice in what happens next.” He pauses, looking off to the window seat again and Flint takes the opportunity to admire the curve of his neck.

“And that’s all?” he prompts when Silver remains silent.

Silver swings around to face him. “A permanent position on your crew.”

It’s not what Flint expects him to say, and he’s fairly certain it shows on his face.

“All right.” He says again.

This time it’s Silver who’s surprised, though he hides it quickly enough. He simply nods and eyes Flint’s crotch.

“Get on with it then.”

“All right.” Silver says unperturbed. He eases off the desk and slides onto Flint’s lap.

“What the fuck?” Flint presses himself back against the chair, gripping the arms with both hands. “You said.”

“I said without touching your cock.” Silver leans in, a hand resting on Flint’s chest, drifting lazily down his shirt. “I never said I wouldn’t touch the rest of you.”

It’s true and Flint knows it, but he’s irritated at Silver and his loophole all the same. His hands grip the armchair even tighter as Silver’s hand wanders all the way down to his lower belly, just resting there. It makes Flint sweat even more.

“When was the last time you had a good fuck?” Silver asks curiously.

“What business is that of yours?” Flint snarls.

Silver shrugs and Flint’s truly starting to hate that gesture on him. It makes his slim shoulder muscles ripple in a way that make it all too easy to picture Silver in the throes of passion.

“Just curious.” Silver says smoothly, flattening his palm all the way against Flint’s belly.

Flint sucks in a tight breath. “Why?”

“You are the captain of one of the most notorious ships that graces Nassau with its presence in her bay.” Silver brushes his thumb idly along the top of Flint’s breeches. “There are many in the town that would probably welcome the chance to warm your bed.”

Flint laughs, startling both of them. “You clearly haven’t listened to the talk. The people of Nassau do not wish to find themselves in my bed.” He watches Silver as he looks down. “ _One_ of the most notorious?”

Silver glances up, a smirk on his lips. “Well, as you say, I haven’t listened to all the talk. Perhaps you are indeed _the_ most notorious.” His eyes linger on Flint’s mouth. “But I have heard some of the talk, captain.” He leans in, careful not to touch Flint’s groin. “And you’re wrong.” His mouth breathes upon Flint’s collarbone before his lips brush Flint’s burning skin ever so lightly.

Flint swallows tightly. “Oh?” he keeps his gaze focused on the wall opposite him. He’s aware of Silver’s entire body: his hair falling forward as Silver leans in towards him, his shoulders hunched slightly, in a way that would make it so easy to encircle his body with Flint’s arm, the length of his cock, now evident pressed against the front of his breeches. Is Silver so truly aroused by this, simply touching Flint? How is that possible?

“Mm.” Silver says, brushing another kiss to the v of Flint’s chest and lower to his shirt, still kissing on. The shirt does nothing to protect Flint from the heat of his mouth.

He kisses his way down Flint’s chest and then simply slides from his lap to the floor, kneeling between Flint’s thighs. This is all too close to what Flint had imagined. His cock pulses at the thought and Silver grins.

Silver just looks at it, licking his lips. “Do you know what I would do if I were allowed to?” He says, almost idly.

“No.” Flint pretends his voice doesn’t sound strained as Silver leans across his knees, still just looking at Flint’s evident arousal.

“I would work my way down this impressive length.” Silver murmurs. “Kissing it once inch at a time until I got to that thick juicy cockhead of yours. And then I would kiss my way oh so slowly all around that delicious head, until you were dripping across my lips.”

Flint strangles a groan. Fuck, this is unfair. Why didn’t he think this through before he let Silver do this? He’s forgotten the point of this, except he can’t let Silver win. Yet all he wants is to come, and the more Silver touches him, the more he talks, the more Flint’s dying to fuck him.

“And then,” Silver continues, stroking his thumbs up the insides of Flint’s thighs. “I would take you so far deep down my throat, it’s all you can feel, and I fuck your cock with my mouth, until you can’t hold out any longer.”

He glances upward, his curls falling over his face as he does. “And then I’d slip you out and let you finish all over me.”

This time Flint can't hold back the sound he makes. His cock is practically bursting from his breeches. He’s going to fucking come in his breeches like a mere cabin boy and just before he’s resigned himself to this fate, Silver leaves him mercifully bereft of further torture and climbs back onto his lap.

He’s oh so very careful to keep just a fraction of distance between their groins and it’s fucking killing Flint. Silver leans in, resting his folded arms against Flint’s chest, his mouth closer to Flint’s than their cocks are. His lips curve into that familiar smirk that Flint resents and appreciates in equal breath.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Silver whispers “Me covered in you.”

At last Flint gives in, and reaches for Silver, clasping him by the back of the neck as he crushes Silver’s mouth to his. Silver moans into his mouth, his arms wrapping around Flint’s neck. His mouth is as starved for this as Flint is, and every time their tongues move together, Flint thinks he’s found both heaven on earth, and the secret to shutting Silver up. Well, in one regard at least.

His cock throbs as Silver groans louder and finally Flint pushes off, drawing back, panting. “Come, on, damn you.”

Silver’s hands drop to his shoulders. “You’re not getting off that easily, captain.” His eyes are bright with arousal and humor, and Flint wishes he didn’t find the sense of mischief in Silver’s soul so appealing, but he does, damn him. He finds everything about Silver appealing and he hates that admission in himself.

“Is that any way to say please?” Silver whispers, kissing Flint’s neck, rocking against his thighs.

Flint’s hands have found their way across Silver’s torso, one gripping his hip, the other slipping inside Silver’s shirt to pinch his nipple in retaliation.

“Fuck yes.” Silver moans.

He arches higher, his hands digging into Flint’s shoulders, still careful not to lean too much against Flint's wound, and it’s maddening how he’s right above Flint’s cock. He can feel the heat from Silver’s cock even though there’s the barest of distance between them. Silver’s practically humping his thighs and it shouldn’t make him so desperate for more, but it does.

As he finished, indeed coming in his breeches like a damn cabin boy, he’s aware that Silver’s coming as well, his body moving in time with Flint even as their bodies are still held just a fraction apart.

Flint slumps against the chair, his chest heaving. Silver finally relaxes his grip on his shoulders and leans back. There’s sweat on his brow. At least he had to work for it, Flint thinks.

The smirk is displayed in full force as Silver slides off his lap. “Well?”

Flint clears his throat. “You have a place on the crew. Once the ship is mine.”

Silver nods. “Good.” He doesn’t quite look at Flint, as he turns away and Flint’s hand swings out to clasp his wrist.

Silver looks at him startled as Flint’s fingers dig into his skin.

 “You think you can tease me like that.” Flint’s gaze is steady on his as he pulls Silver lower. “Touch me like that…You think you can _talk_ like that to your captain and not expect retaliation?”

Silver swallows nervously. “I…”

 Flint’s other hand reaches up clasp the back of his neck once more. He draws Silver downward until their faces are level. He watches the different emotions play out in Silver's eyes and knows what he wants as truly as he wants it himself.

“So yes, you’ve won and earned yourself a place on my crew, on my ship.” Flint murmurs, “And also in my bed.”

It clearly takes Silver a moment for the words to sink in. When they do, the smile that spreads across his face is so rare, and yet more alive than anything Flint’s ever seen.

Silver simply leans in, closing the distance between them as he kisses Flint in response. Flint's fingers stroke their way along his neck until he’s simply caressing Silver, a much longed for touch upon Silver's aching skin.

When Silver draws off, he’s still smiling.

Flint clears his throat. “See that I don’t regret my decision.” He does his best to sound gruff, and for a moment he fears Silver is going to laugh.

“Aye, aye, captain.” Silver says in all seriousness. “You have my word.”

He looks around the room and Flint knows what he’s looking for. “There’s a pitcher there.”

Silver grins. “I’ll be back with water to…” He glances at the damp stain over Flint’s crotch.

“Mm, see that you hurry.” Flint says, and this time he sounds reasonably himself, all irritation and no patience.

It doesn’t deter Silver though, who goes out of the cabin whistling as he holds the pitcher in front of his own matching stain.

 _Is this what it’s going to be like from now on_? Flint wonders as he strokes his beard. He has a suspicion it is, but strangely, he’s not averse to it. He leans back and closes his eyes, thinking of Silver, and the many delights of his mouth.


End file.
